


with all the blessings a heart can give

by earlgrey_milktea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-12-22 17:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: Prompto has only ever wanted to give Noctis his very best.[a three-part fic set in a kinder future where happy endings are firmly within reach.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> originally [posted](http://puddingcatbae.tumblr.com/post/164091697890/with-all-the-blessings-my-heart-can-give-a) on tumblr as a three-part fic, pls consider reblogging the original posts!!
> 
> this was inspired by me buttoning a shirt on a mannequin at work...
> 
> i'm also still going back and forth with the title—"with all the blessings _a_ heart can give" or "with all the blessings _my_ heart can give"

Noctis is already up when Prompto blinks his eyes open. It’s a rare thing, but today is as rare an occasion as they come. He lets himself lie between the rumpled warm sheets, watching Noctis dress in silence. 

He doesn’t think either of them had much sleep last night. But he thinks it is less to do with the tender aching of his muscles or the line of hickeys on the inside of Noctis’ thighs, where nobody will ever see them until they fade, but at least Prompto knows it’s there. Even just for a little while. Long enough for Prompto to burn that image in his mind, Noctis’ expression when he lay before him, all pliant and flushed and watching him back like Prompto is the sun. Long enough for Prompto to forget that these moments will never be long enough.

He watches Noctis pull on the shirt Ignis ironed and hung up specifically for today, he watches the way Noctis’ dark bangs—still sleep-mussed and one side is sticking up slightly—hangs over his eyes, he watches the sunlight streaming in through the half-open blinds behind Noctis. Quietly, Prompto slips out of the bed, and shivers in the morning air.

“Here,” he says, nudging Noctis’ fumbling fingers out of the way.

“I got it,” Noctis protests, but he allows Prompto to help him anyway.

Prompto keeps his gaze focused on the buttons of Noctis’ dress shirt. He keeps his fingers steady. He tries to keep his heartbeat steady, too, but he knew better. Being this close to Noctis, close enough to feel the warmth through his clothes, close enough to lean in and hold on tight—Prompto hooks another button into the hole, and lets go.

“Hey,” Noctis says. His fingers are gentle on Prompto’s jaw, tilting Prompto’s face up until he can press their lips together, soft and sweet. 

Prompto kisses back, relishing in the familiar intimacy, the way Noctis’ lips fit against his. When they pull apart, he blinks. “What was that for?”

“You looked sad.”

 _Of course I’m sad_ , Prompto doesn’t say.  _How can I not be sad when I’m helping you get ready for the press conference about your engagement to someone else?_

“Sorry,” he says instead. “Guess I’m still sleepy.”

Noctis gazes at him for a long moment, as if searching for something in his eyes. Prompto looks back and hopes his mouth doesn’t tremble too much. 

“Will you be here when I come back?” Noctis asks eventually.

Prompto hesitates. But Noctis is watching him with that hopeful shine to his eyes, so Prompto nods. He walks Noctis to the door and allows a small smile when Noctis plants a quick kiss to his forehead. He waves goodbye and makes sure the door is locked before he curls up on Noct’s couch, in Noct’s clothes, in Noct’s apartment, all alone.

No one has to know if he spends the rest of the morning crying into his knees before resolutely wiping away his tears and turning on the tv, ready to wish his best friend all the best, because Noctis deserves it, and Prompto—Prompto has only ever wanted to give Noctis his very best.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls consider checking out the [original post](http://puddingcatbae.tumblr.com/post/164163972530/with-all-the-blessings-a-heart-can-give-a-promptis)

By the time the press conference starts, Prompto has created a nest for himself in Noct’s living room. He’s dragged the blankets from the bedroom and gathered pillows around him, and even prepared a cup noodle for himself. He huddles on the cushions and watches the commercial break cut back to the news program, chewing on the corner of his lip.

Noctis looks good. Of course he does. He sits beside his father, and even through the screen and under the flashing camera lights, Prompto can tell from the way his lips are pressed together, his eyes slightly narrowed, his chin tilted just a few degrees higher than usual, that Noctis is putting on his best public face. Luna sits next to him, as beautiful as ever.

Prompto swallows his mouthful of noodles, and tries to pretend it tastes like more than cardboard. 

His eyes are on the screen, but he’s barely listening. All he can do is stare at Noctis, grainy and small from the various camera angles, and ultimately too far away.

 _“_ _As of yesterday,”_ King Regis is saying, _“the treaty has been signed. We are in a ceasefire with the Empire, and we hope to continue working together to further better our relations._

_“There will not be an engagement between Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum and Lady Lunafreya, the Oracle, any time soon.”_

Prompto nearly drops his half-finished cup noodle. He turns up the volume.

_“Could you clarify that statement, Your Majesty?”  
_

_“Wasn’t the engagement one of the treaty terms?”  
_

Prompto frowns. That was classified information. He isn’t sure how the reporters managed to get their hands on that tidbit, but it likely isn’t anything good. The only reason he knew was because Noct refused to be anything but honest with him.

 _“There are no further information to disclose on that subject,”_  King Regis says firmly,  _“We have negotiated a peace treaty with Niflheim, that is for certain.”_

_“How do Your Highnesses feel about this?”  
_

Lady Lunafreya leans forward towards the microphone, smiling serenely all the while.  _“While I am certain Noct would have made a wonderful husband, I will take this turn of events as an opportunity to further expand my horizons, as an Oracle to the people. I am still a capable princess whether or not I am married, after all. It brings me joy to know that my friendship with the Prince of Lucis can only grow from here. I’m sure Noct feels the same.”_

Noctis smiles back at her. It’s a genuine smile, Prompto notes, and he’s glad that even if Noctis has to suffer under the flashing lights and cameras, he has a friend by his side. _“I’m also content with my current relationship with Lunafreya,”_  he says,  _“Like my father said, we are in the process of repairing and improving relations with the Empire. I can assure you that when I do get engaged in the future, it will have nothing to do with any treaty.”_

Prompto gapes at the screen. He has no idea how to react to all of this. Noctis never mentioned anything. Granted, Prompto had been pretty determined not to talk about any of this, hellbent on holding onto every second of Noctis’ time and attention that he can before he has to give it all away—but Noctis. Noctis hadn’t mentioned anything and Prompto doesn’t know what that means.

He wasn’t the only that latched onto Noctis’ words. The reporters are immediately pressing on with questions about the prince’s use of  _when_ and not  _if_.

_“Are you and Lady Lunafreya in a relationship, then? Will we be hearing about your engagement in the near future again?”_

The Glaive are already doing crowd control, the royal publicist stepping forwards to redirect the questions. Prompto blinks at the tv, not hearing a single word of the speech the king is presenting. He stares at his best friend on the screen, looking flawless in that royal black suit, sitting tall next to his childhood friend. The Noct in the tv doesn’t give him any more answers.

Prompto sets down the cup noodle, small appetite diminished to none. He wants to go home, but there’s no one waiting there. He wants to go for a run, maybe, clear his head, but Noctis asked him to stay. 

So, curling up between the blankets and trying to quiet the confused buzzing in his mind, Prompto stays.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](http://puddingcatbae.tumblr.com/post/164474470970/with-all-the-blessings-a-heart-can-give-a-promptis)
> 
> happy ending tag everyone

Prompto is still on the couch when Noctis slips through the door. He’s turned the television off, gathered the blankets around himself, and dozed off for a bit. He turned off his phone at some point to stop himself from doing something stupid like search up other media on the press conference or worse, sending Noctis a text. 

He’ll wait for Noctis. He promised.

Noctis comes into view, hair dishevelled and expression exhausted, one hand pulling at the knot in his tie. He’s muttering, “Gods, how does Specs wear these things and not strangle himself…” when he catches sight of Prompto all curled up. Noctis stops. “Prom? What’s wrong?” he says, alarmed. “Are you feeling sick? Did you forget your meds today?”

“I’m fine,” Prompto says, pushing himself up. He watches Noctis round the couch and settle in the spot next to his legs.

“What’s going on then? You look worse than this morning.”

Prompto stares down at his lap. His voice is quiet when he says, “I watched the press conference.”

“Oh.” Noctis blinks. He tugs on his bangs. “Sorry, if I was being too vague. I was told to be as brief as possible, and the main point of that conference was about the treaty anyway, so I didn’t want to reveal too much about our relationship.”

Prompto frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Huh? The press conference? Dad said it, we signed a treaty with the Empire. Technically we’re still deep in negotiations about the details, like what’s going on at the borders and reinstating trade routes and all that, but the bottom line is that the treaty  _is_ in effect.”

“But… Lady Lunafreya?”

“Well, Tenebrae is still under Niflheim’s control, but dad is hoping to negotiate that, too. Luna said her brother is doing his best for the people on his side of things as well.”

Prompto stares at Noctis. He’s listening to Noctis and it sounds like good things but his mind is still stuck. He can feel frustrated tears building behind his eyes, and his head is starting to hurt. He feels stupid, and he hates it.

Noctis reaches for him, but Prompto draws back. Confused and concerned, Noctis lowers his hand. “Prom? Come on, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t get it,” Prompto says. He waves a hand between them. “I don’t get this.”

Noctis frowns. “What do you mean? You don’t get—us? We’re… we’re together, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we are, or—or we  _were_. But. But then you said—the treaty—you said you and Lady Lunafreya had to, y-you know. So I thought. Okay. Okay! I was prepared for it, Noct, I—” Prompto’s talking too fast again, breaths coming too fast. Noctis’ eyes have grown wide, hands hovering in midair as if wanting to touch Prompto but not wanting to upset him further. “I don’t  _get it_ , I was supposed to—supposed to send you off and give you—give you my b-best wishes, Noct, I was! But I was too selfish, so I thought. I thought I c-could at least—at least keep you until I-I have to let go, I’m sorry, I c-can’t even make myself l-leave, but I, I just—”

“Prompto.”

He has his eyes squeezed shut. There are cool fingers sliding around his own, a gentle hand in his hair. Prompto gasps, feeling his stupid tear ducts open. 

“Prompto,” Noctis says, and Prompto allows himself to be pulled into familiar arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were so upset about all this.”

Prompto hiccups. “Of course I’d be upset.”

“I know. I’m an idiot, sorry.” Noctis pulls back and cups a hand around Prompto’s face. “I’m not engaged to Luna. I don’t ever plan on getting engaged to Luna, and her me. Okay?”

Prompto can only stare, blinking hard in hopes that the tears will stop.

“I don’t plan on being engaged to anyone,” Noctis continues, voice low and soothing, and Prompto can feel his body relax in response to Noctis’ familiar presence. 

Until Noctis goes, “To anyone but you.”

It takes Prompto a second to process that, and then he’s shoving Noctis backwards on the couch and jumping to his feet in shock. Except he forgets he’s still tangled within the blanket nest he’s built himself, so he tumbles down and knocks his head against the coffee table. He lands in a heap on the floor.

“Oh, shit, Prompto, are you okay?”

With Noctis’ help, Prompto manages to sit up. His eyes are watering with more tears from the sudden pain. He turns his gaze on Noctis.

“Wh-What did you—You—Did you just fucking propose to me?”

Noctis stares back, realization dawning on his face. He turns as red as Prompto feels. “I—Oh, Six, I—guess I did? I mean—I, uh. Y-You don’t have to—You don’t have to respond right now, I—Fuck. That wasn’t how I was planning on proposing—Oh, Prom, you’re crying again, I’m sorry, you don’t have to marry me if you don’t want— _oomph!”_

Noctis is knocked back against the couch with the force of Prompto’s hug. His arms instinctively loop around Prompto’s middle, and they just lie there, squished together, hearts pounding too loud, too fast. Ignis will probably be mad later about Prompto staining Noctis’ fancy shirt with his messy tears. Prompto doesn’t care.

“Noct,” he sobs, “I love you so much.”

Noctis sighs, and Prompto feels it tremble through his whole body. Fingers thread themselves through Prompto’s hair. 

“I love you, too, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my fave thing is prompto and noctis saying "buddy" and "dude" etc while at the same time professing their undying love to each other,


	4. part 0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a stand-alone prequel of sorts.
> 
> follows the same vein of dramatic emotional content lmao

For once, it’s completely silent in Noctis’ apartment. Not the right kind of silence, either---not the sleepy, easy silence after a long night of video games interspersed with spontaneous makeout sessions. No, this silence is thick, hard to swallow, sticks to your throat and drags like you’re about to choke but you don’t. Not yet.

Noctis feels a little like he’s drowning.

“I don’t care,” Prompto says suddenly. 

There’s a trembling sort of desperation to Prompto’s expression that makes it hard for Noctis to look at him. He returns his gaze to the carpet floor.

“I don’t care,” Prompto repeats, “that you’re---the prince, or that you’ll have to---to ascend the throne or whatever but---but not now. You’re still... you’re still Noct, you know? You’re still---my Noct.” His voice wavers slightly, and Noctis flinches just as slightly.

“But it’s not fair to you.” Noctis glares at the carpet. “They---the council, the media, the people---they’ll all expect me to be something I’m not, and you... They won’t understand this,” he says, gesturing between them. More quietly, he adds, “They won’t understand us.”

“So? They don’t have to.”

Noctis shakes his head. “I’m always going to be in the public eye, Prompto. They’ll want to know about my private life no matter what I do, and that---that includes you.”

“I don’t care. I---Do I make you happy, Noct?”

Noctis lifts his head and looks at Prompto with wide eyes. “Of course you do,” he says. 

“Then that’s enough for me,” Prompto says, leaning forwards. His eyes are bright and Noctis finds it difficult to look away. “I don’t care if we have to hide it or if I can only have you behind closed doors---You deserve someone to make you happy, too, even if you’re the prince and if. If I can be that person, that’s---that’s more than enough for me---”

“But you deserve better than that!” Noctis bursts out. “You deserve more than that. You deserve to be out in the spotlight and accepted for---for who you are, for being good to me, for being the one I love, and I---I don’t know if I can give you that.”

Prompto is quiet, then. His cheeks are red, but his fingers are clenched so tightly they’re shaking. Noctis wants to shuffle over and hold him close, close enough their heartbeats can settle against each other and synchronize like they’ve done for all these years they’ve known each other. But there’s a heaviness between them he can’t figure out how to breach.

Prompto’s voice is small when he says, “Then, you want to break up?” 

His breath catches, and Noctis stills. “No,” he says before he can catch himself. Then, louder, firmer, “No. I don’t. I don’t ever want to break up with you.”

Prompto’s crying. He reaches up and swipes at his eyes furiously, but Noctis can read him just as well as Prompto does him. They’re leaning into each other before they even register the movement, like drawstring strung together, helplessly, hopelessly. Noctis tucks Prompto’s head against his collarbone. Blond hair tickles his chin while tears dampen his shirt.

“I don’t either,” Prompto says, “I just want to be---I just want you, Noct. That’s all I---That’s all I ever wanted and I---I don’t care. It doesn’t matter, if we can stay like this.”

And Noctis curses his own weakness, his own selfishness. He was born under a miracle alignment of the stars and from the moment he was brought into the world, his destiny has been a solid weight nestled in the crown of his hair, heavier with every season that passes by. All his life, he’s been taught how to be someone greater, someone better, someone more. Prompto was the only one who has ever wanted Noctis to be just Noct. Not an heir to the a kingdom, not a Crown Prince, not a future laid with tattered glory and glowing swords. Just Noct, his best friend.

The Astrals may have chosen Noctis, but Prompto is the one thing Noctis chose for himself that chose him back and didn’t expect anything else out of it.

And Noctis is still just a boy, a boy with a burning heart not quite noble enough to let the sunshine in front of him go.

“I want you, too,” Noctis says, barely above a whisper. “I’ll always want you.”

Prompto’s fingers hook into Noctis’ shirt, pulling enough that Ignis will scold Noctis about stretching his clothes. He stays still. “Noctis.”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens, later on---you inheriting the throne or---anything. Whatever may change, can we promise that we won’t change? No matter what, Noct, as long as you’ll have me, I promise I will stay by your side.”

It’s a fool’s wish. A flimsy promise neither of them can protect. They both know this. But Noctis has always known that when it comes to the boy in his arms, he’s the biggest fool in this Six-damned world.

So he buries his face in Prompto’s hair, and makes a vow of his own. He’ll walk tall to the tune of fate, but he’ll choose his own destiny. He tightens his hold on Prompto.

He doesn’t let go.

**Author's Note:**

> pls come talk to me about promptis @puddingcatbae on tumblr/twitter


End file.
